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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364581">Make It Always Be Too Late</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119'>eponine119</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5 Times, F/M, Flash Sideways Verse, Smut, mix of sideways and regular verse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:02:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Juliet slept with Jack, and one she didn't. 6 ficlets on a theme, not necessarily interconnected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Juliet Burke/Jack Shephard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beach, 2004</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Make It Always Be Too Late<br/>
by eponine119<br/>
June 20, 2020</p>
<p> </p>
<p>1.<br/>
The Beach, 2004</p>
<p>Juliet sleeps with Jack. </p>
<p>They had dinner together, and things changed after they saw Kate go into Sawyer's tent. </p>
<p>It's not elegant. “You want to...?” he asks. </p>
<p>She gives him a long look. “Okay.” </p>
<p>It's not romantic. She wonders if he'll kiss her, but he doesn't seem to think about it. </p>
<p>He buries his face in her chest. All four of them are thinking about Kate. (Because Kate is, of course, thinking of herself.)</p>
<p>Juliet thinks about putting a stop to it, because it's a farce, but she doesn't see the point. She closes her eyes and thinks about dying here on the island. How it would only be fitting. But he pulls out when he comes. </p>
<p>He smiles at her, and she tries to smile back. He falls asleep next to her and she lies there, waiting until she's sure he won't awaken. Then she creeps out of the tent. </p>
<p>Behind her, she hears the flap of Kate's tent close as the other woman makes a similar escape back to her own space. Sawyer stands at the opening of his shelter. Juliet accidentally locks eyes with him. She wonders if he feels as used as she does. </p>
<p>She thinks for a second about going over there. She wonders if he would do it right. Kiss her, and make sure she gets off, and hold her afterward. He keeps looking at her, like he can read her every thought. She raises an eyebrow, and he turns and goes back into his tent. </p>
<p>She goes down to the ocean to wash the stains away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Los Angeles, 1990/Sideways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2.<br/>
Los Angeles, 1990/Sideways</p><p>Jack has his own apartment. Not shared – his own. He said that after last year, he couldn't really expect to live in the frat house and concentrate. His family has money. </p><p>Jack's three years older than her, 21 to her 18, but he's graduating this year. He plays it off with a shy smile – “I took some AP classes” – but he gets this stuff like he was born for it. </p><p>He was her o-chem tutor until they started dating. Then he insisted she get a new tutor, for propriety's sake. Jack can be ridiculous like that. So now she meets with Bryan once a week, but he can't explain things like Jack can, so Jack ends up helping her anyway. </p><p>She thought she was really smart until she came here. Until she met Jack. </p><p>It's weird, being in his apartment. He has a bedroom with a door. He has curtains. His mother probably hired a decorator. Juliet's used to backseats, and behind the bleachers, and basements. She's used to high school. </p><p>He stops kissing her, perhaps sensing she's too deep in her own head again. He looks into her eyes. “You okay?” </p><p>She just looks back and pretends she's not scared. She doesn't know why she's scared. “It's not like I'm a virgin, Jack,” she says. </p><p>“Okay,” he says amiably, and strokes back her hair. She's the only one on her floor in the dorms who hasn't cut off her hair. It seems to be part of the freshman experience. He kisses her again, and they undress solemnly. </p><p>He lays her down and puts the condom on – they both have futures to think about. He looks into her eyes, silently asking her if she's ready. She smiles, and he smiles, then he closes his eyes. She watches his face as he pushes into her. She bites her lip, trying to make it look like it's from pleasure, but it hurts. He's not looking at her anyway. </p><p>His body moves against hers and she tries to get into it. She moves her hips, but the rhythm's all wrong. She listens to the noises he makes, to the sounds their bodies make, to the sound of her own harsh breathing. He says her name when he comes, and she likes that.</p><p>He looks at her again and she gives him a shy smile. He smiles back, then moves to take care of the condom. “Fuck,” he mutters. </p><p>“What?” She sits up, feeling cold, trying to see what he's seeing. </p><p>“It broke,” he says. She doesn't understand. He looks at her, and she sees his anger, and she wants to shrink back. “The fucking condom broke.” </p><p>“Oh.” She thinks about it for a second. “Shit.” </p><p>“Yes, shit,” he says, and gets out of bed to throw it away. </p><p>“I'm sure it'll be fine,” she says, counting days in her head but her cycle's never been like clockwork. “Jack. Come back.” </p><p>“You're right,” he says, getting back into bed with her. He puts his arms around her. She presses a kiss to the side of his head, trying to draw him back in to what was supposed to be special. “It'll be fine,” he says. “And if it's not, we'll take care of it.” </p><p>She doesn't say anything. They lie down together, and he snuggles up next to her. He closes his eyes, but she keeps looking at him, from up close. All this time, she thought he was a man. A grown-up, an adult. He seemed like he had it all figured out, and he had all the answers, just like in o-chem. Now she sees more clearly. He's just a guy, a scared kid like her, trying to figure it out and make it work. </p><p>Her eyes are suddenly hot with tears. She wants to start screaming, and she wants to run, because this thing that she wanted so badly suddenly isn't what she wanted at all. She doesn't feel closer to him, she just feels farther away. </p><p>In the morning, he makes coffee and kisses her and sends her on her way. She shoulders her backpack and doesn't look back. She's thinking maybe she'll break up with him, even though he's smart and gorgeous and funny and she thought that she was in love with him. </p><p>The test has been in her backpack. She bought it the same day that it happens. The first time she throws up, several weeks later, she digs it out and takes it in the bathroom in the science hall even though it'll make her late for class. She already knows what it's going to say, so class doesn't really matter anymore. </p><p>She washes her hands and gives herself a long look in the mirror. She thinks about how Jack didn't call her for three days afterward, and then made up some excuse. He had the same doubts about her that she had about him. She tells herself she's strong enough and she can do this. </p><p>There are scissors in her backpack. She twists her hair and cuts off about twelve inches without a second thought. She shakes her head and watches the way the ends of her hair now swing just above her shoulders. She likes it, but it makes her want to cry. She holds up her ponytail, now separated from her head like something in a fairy tale, the soft yellow curls. Her first instinct is to keep it, but she puts it in the trash can on top of the positive pregnancy test. </p><p>She has Jack's schedule memorized and finds him easily in his favorite carrel in the library. He looks up and surprise colors his hazel eyes. “What happened?” he asks, looking at her hair and not noticing her face until she says his name. </p><p>“We need to talk,” she says, but she can tell he already knows what she's going to say.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Los Angeles, 2000 / Sideways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>3.<br/>Los Angeles, 2000 / Sideways</p>
<p>They sit on opposite sides of the conference table and sign the papers. It reminds her of when they bought their house. Her house, now, according to these papers. </p>
<p>She looks at Jack and he looks back at her. She wonders if she looks as stunned as he does. She wonders wildly if she'll ever see him again, but of course she will. They have David, who's nine, who's sitting in his school classroom at this moment studying volcanoes, which are his favorite thing right now. They've explained all this to him, the divorce, and he says he understands, but she knows he doesn't, really. He can't. </p>
<p>She closes her eyes on the memory of sitting in the living room with her parents as they tried to explain their own divorce, when she was ten and prone to outbursts. A tear slips out and she listens to the scratch of the pen against paper as Jack writes his name. She tries to let it ground her, hold her here. She opens her eyes and the tears roll off her chin and leave a wet spot on her shirt. Jack looks at her as she's wiping them away. </p>
<p>It's all done and they stand around talking about stupid things she doesn't care about. Finally she's free and heads for the elevator. She stabs the button, wanting to get away. She thinks she'll pick up David after school and go to that ice cream place he likes so much. Maybe she'll go get him early. Anything to avoid going back to that empty house she wanted. </p>
<p>“Going back to the hospital?” Jack asks. The elevator didn't come fast enough, and he's caught up with her. “We should have carpooled.” </p>
<p>“I took the day off,” she says. </p>
<p>“Good idea,” he says. “Juliet, I'm sorry.” </p>
<p>“It's nobody's fault, Jack,” she says. “We agreed we both wanted this. It's for the best.” How many other cliches does she have? She should have written them down, studied them, so she would know her lines. </p>
<p>“I'm still sorry,” he says. </p>
<p>The elevator dings and the doors slide open. He gestures for her to step in before him. The doors slide closed and he presses the button for the parking garage. </p>
<p>“Kiss me,” she says, impulsively. </p>
<p>“What?” he asks, half-laughing with surprise. He rubs a hand over his buzzed-short hair – he's only just started wearing it this way; the rich brown waves she loved are gone. But then he looks at her, at what she hopes is her brave face, but she forgot that he knows her so well he can tell when she's faking it. And he does what she asked. </p>
<p>She clings to the familiarity of him. His size and strength against her. The taste of him as his tongue moves against hers. The way her blood heats up. </p>
<p>The elevator doors open and he slides away. He doesn't look at her as he heads for his car. She stops for a moment, gathering herself. He's going to cry later – possibly very soon – and there's not going to be anyone to hold him like she used to. It would be easy for her to think instead about all the reasons they had to do this – the accusations, the yelling, the drinking, the one and only time he hit her (after she goaded him into it for hours; she's not blameless) – but she lets it hurt instead. </p>
<p>When she gets to her car, he's standing there. She frowns and then realizes he's parked next to her. He has his hand over the bridge of his nose like he does when he's trying not to cry. “Juliet, I still love you,” he says, without looking at her. </p>
<p>“No. You don't,” she reminds him. “But let's go home.” She reaches for his hand and threads her fingers through his. He looks at her with equal parts confusion and hope. </p>
<p>She drives, and he cries. She doesn't look at him, not even when she pulls into the driveway. He wipes his eyes with both hands and grabs some tissues from the box she keeps in the front seat and blows his nose. They get out of the car together. She unlocks the door, because she made him give back his key. They fought about it at the time and she won. </p>
<p>They go into the bedroom. She takes off her skirt and her blouse while he washes his face. Her nail goes through her pantyhose and they run all the way down to the foot. She rolls her eyes and drops the hosiery on the floor. She wonders if he'll want to undress her, then decides she doesn't care and slips out of her underwear and her bra and slides under the sheets on their bed. Her bed. </p>
<p>She wonders what his new place is like. It's a condo he paid way too much money for. David says it's nice. She stares up at the ceiling. </p>
<p>Jack comes out of the bathroom naked. He gives her an uncertain smile and sits down on the bed. “This --” </p>
<p>She kisses him because she doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to analyze it to death the way they are both prone to. She just wants to be, which is not something Jack is good at. He cups her breasts and she strokes his cock with her hand until he's all the way hard. She thinks about sucking on it, but she knows he'd put his hands on her head and hold her there until he comes and she swallows, and while that used to kind of turn her on, she wants to get something out of this. </p>
<p>She pushes him down and climbs on top of him. His eyes sink closed and he groans. He fingers her as she moves, and he still knows exactly what she likes. It goes fast because it's been a long time and for some reason, fucking her newly ex-husband is exciting. </p>
<p>He rolls them over so she's underneath him. He thrusts hard and she cries out, but then he stops. He puts his hands on her hair and she opens her eyes. “Juliet,” he says, with a note of question in his voice. </p>
<p>She never wants to hear him say he loves her again, so she kisses him. He breaks away, and she tries again. “Will you just let me talk?” he demands, and their bodies have stopped moving. </p>
<p>“What, Jack?” she asks. “What is it that you have to say that is so incredibly important it can't wait?” </p>
<p>“Are you still on the pill?” </p>
<p>She laughs. Wouldn't that just figure, if he got her pregnant again to celebrate their divorce. She goes a little hysterical with the emotion of the day, and laughing makes her stomach hurt. He looks confused. “Yeah, Jack,” she says softly. “I am.” </p>
<p>She waits for the anger, the questioning of why, the demands to know what other guys she's been screwing before their divorce was final. (There are no other guys – his unfounded jealousy was always the problem.) But he doesn't. He sighs with relief, and kisses her again, and his hips start to move. She's ready, and comes just a moment before he does. She memorizes the sound he makes. </p>
<p>They lie there together, afterward. She puts her head on his chest the way she used to. He dozes for awhile, and she lets him. He probably hasn't been sleeping nights. She wonders if he's been drinking again, or if he kept his promise to stop. It's been a long time since they've done this, and even longer since it happened in the middle of the day. </p>
<p>He's still got his ring on. She thinks of hers, tucked away in her jewelry box since the day he moved out, and suddenly she wants him gone. “Jack,” she says, rubbing a hand across his chest as she sits up. </p>
<p>“Hmm?” he lies there and looks at her. </p>
<p>She takes the sheet with her as she gets up. She doesn't want him to see her. She isn't his, anymore. This is done. “Time to go. I have to get David from school.” </p>
<p>He sighs, and sits up, resting against the headboard. She turns away to put her clothes on. “Why?” he asks.  She ignores him, and he gets up. He wraps his fingers around her wrist to get her attention. “Why did you do this?” he asks. </p>
<p>She can see all his doubts. She knows him that well. He's wondering if she felt sorry for him, if she missed him, if she has regrets, if she still loves him. And it's some of those, and none of those at the same time. </p>
<p>“It doesn't mean anything, Jack. It's just goodbye.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Jungle, 2004</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>4. <br/>The Jungle, 2004</p>
<p>On the hike back to the survivors' beach from the barracks, Juliet and Jack fall further behind. They can't see or hear Sayid and Kate anymore, and she doubts if those two care. Her foot goes into a hole and she stumbles forward, crying out as she fails to recover her balance and falls face-first into foliage. </p>
<p>She looks up, and sees Jack looking at her with raised eyebrows. Of course he got to see her faceplant. “At least it wasn't in mud this time,” she says. He holds out a hand, and she gets to her feet. But on her first step, she frowns at the pain that shoots through her ankle. </p>
<p>“You okay?” he asks. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” she says, flexing and turning her ankle to determine whether she's actually hurt it. </p>
<p>“You'd better sit down,” he says. </p>
<p>“I'm fine.” </p>
<p>“Juliet,” he says warningly, and she gives him a look as she complies. He pushes up her pantleg and pulls down her sock, then puts gentle hands on her skin. He touches her so tenderly she has to turn her face away. “That hurt?” </p>
<p>“Mmm? No.” </p>
<p>He nods, and puts his hands on his thighs. “It might be a mild sprain. If it starts to get worse, or swell, I can wrap it for you.” </p>
<p>She wants to protest, but just sighs and says, “Thanks.” </p>
<p>“What's wrong?” he asks. </p>
<p>She shakes her head. “Sayid would be happy to kill me,” she says. “I'm sure he's not the only one.” </p>
<p>He sighs, and she knows he's thinking 'not this again.' “Come on,” he says, and pats her thigh. </p>
<p>“Jack?” she says, and he turns back, and when he does, she puts her hand on his jaw and presses her lips against his. It's extra insurance, she thinks, knowing how responsible Jack always feels for everyone and everything. </p>
<p>It's like she's opened the floodgates to his passion and longing. He kisses her back and then they start pulling at each other's clothes. She unzips his jeans and lowers her head and takes him in her mouth. He groans and his hips buck. She puts one hand on his hip and then reaches back to squeeze his ass. </p>
<p>He sways as she licks and sucks, using her tongue on the head of him and her hand to stroke up and down his shaft. She looks up at him. His eyes are closed and his head is tipped back. He's grunting softly, rhythmically. It won't be long now. His fingers tangle through her hair. His hips move faster and his noises intensify. He comes, and she holds it in her mouth for a moment, then lets him slip out from between her lips. She spits into the brambles. </p>
<p>He goes down on his knees and lets his head drop between his shoulders. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as he looks at her. He's thinking about kissing her, she can tell, but he's not going to. She worries for a second that he's going to say thanks, and puts her teeth into her lip. He doesn't say anything, just looks at her for a long moment, then he nods. </p>
<p>She reaches out to do up his jeans, but he brushes her hand away and does it himself. “Juliet --” </p>
<p>“We should probably catch up,” she says, scrambling to her feet, ankle all but forgotten. She didn't want to hear what he was going to say, because it was probably some speech about how he feels about Kate and how they should, you know, probably not mention this when they get back to the beach. </p>
<p>She tells herself she only did it because she needs him to be on her side, and they needed something stronger. But she wouldn't be practically running if that was all there was to it. </p>
<p>Sayid and Kate are just over the next rise. They've stopped, waiting. Juliet breezes past them, but then stops to gulp water from her canteen. She doesn't look back, but she knows Jack is behind her and that Kate is on him instantly. </p>
<p>“What took you so long?” Kate asks him eagerly. </p>
<p>“We stopped to rest,” he says, and Juliet knows that he has to look away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hydra Station, 2004</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>5.<br/>Hydra Station, 2004</p>
<p>She knew what he'd seen on the monitors. They all knew. Even Alex, though Alex looked away when Pickett laughed bitterly and started the video again. </p>
<p>Alex looked at Juliet. Juliet continued to stare at the video, as though it didn't make her feel anything. Then she met Alex's eyes. She was afraid. “You should go to him,” Alex said. “He's gonna operate on my dad tomorrow, and --” </p>
<p>“Okay,” she said mildly, and she put her hand on the girl's hair as she hugged her. She knew that in an hour, Alex would be on a boat, against her will, headed back home. </p>
<p>Juliet turned off the cameras, and let herself in. Her hands felt strange to be empty. She usually brought him food. She let herself in on his side, with no safety of glass between them. </p>
<p>He sat curled up in the corner, head down and resting on his knees. His head rose as she slipped inside and closed the heavy door behind her. She didn't spin the wheel to lock them in. She wasn't sure if she would need a quick escape. </p>
<p>“You know,” he said. </p>
<p>She nodded. “I'll assist you in the surgery tomorrow. I promise I can hold a clamp.” </p>
<p>“Not that.” The words ground out of him, and he looked up at the ceiling. His eyes shimmered with tears. </p>
<p>“That too,” she said, and sat down next to him. She crossed her legs and kept her spine very straight and let her hands rest in her lap. She felt his body heat, being so close to him. When she turned her head to look at him, their lips were inches apart. She looked down at them without thinking about it, then met his eyes again. “Tell me,” she invited. </p>
<p>“No.” </p>
<p>She looked at his mouth again. It was pink, and open, and she could see the angle of his crooked incisor. Before she could meet his eyes again, his hand grabbed her hair roughly, pulling her head back so he could kiss her savagely. His lips crushed against hers and his tongue forced between her teeth, into her mouth. She let him. He pulled her hair again, until she couldn't help but cry out, and then he released her. </p>
<p>“What are you doing here, Juliet?” </p>
<p>“I thought you might be lonely,” she said, and licked her swollen lower lip. It was tender and sensitive, and it felt good. Painful, but good. His eyes followed her. “Are you lonely, Jack?” </p>
<p>“Are you lonely, Juliet?” He threw it back at her. </p>
<p>“Sometimes,” she admitted. She took a deep breath and looked up at the chains hanging from the ceiling. She looked at him, at his body, at his well-defined biceps in the shirt with the sleeves ripped out. She traced where she had looked with her hand, explored his muscles. Then she touched his chest and let her hand drift downward. He was hard, and she wasn't sure if it was from watching the Sawyer-Kate sex tape or from her. She supposed she didn't really care. He leaned back and closed his eyes and let her hand explore and she supposed he didn't really care either. </p>
<p>His hand finally stopped her. “Who would you be pretending I am?” he asked. </p>
<p>She blinked. “I'm sorry?” </p>
<p>“I'd just be pretending you're Kate,” he said roughly. “So who --” </p>
<p>“I wouldn't be pretending,” she said, and met his gaze. “I like you.” She ran her hand over his short hair. She thought it would be bristly, but it's soft. “The cameras are off.” </p>
<p>“Well, thank God for that,” he said and laughed roughly. Then he grabbed her forearms and forced her down onto the floor. He lay down on top of her, both of them still fully clothed. He lay between her thighs and ground against her, holding her arms pinned above her head. Her head knocked against the floor, not hard. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, listening to his breath rasp as he humped against her. </p>
<p>He pulled away and let her go. She sat up, careful not to rub her wrists or her head where they hurt. His face screwed up and he wiped away tears. Her heart ached for him. “What did he promise you?” He glared at her. “Ben, what did he promise you, if you'd come in here and do this?” </p>
<p>She sighed. “Nothing. He doesn't know. I'm here because I want to be.” </p>
<p>He let out a shaky laugh. “I almost believe you.” </p>
<p>“Believe me, Jack,” she said. “I'm here because I think you need a friend, and because I think you're kind of interested in me, and because I want to fuck you before you manage to escape this goddamn island and leave the rest of us behind. That's why I'm here.” She stood up, thinking it came out more angry than she intended. It came out as angry as she feels.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he said, and stood up to face her. They were both breathing hard. He reached for her hair again. </p>
<p>She put a hand on his chest. “Can you make it... nice?” she asked, and her voice went almost inaudible at the end. “Please.” She looked at him and got her Juliet-the-Other mask back in place. “Or at least lay off the hair-pulling.” </p>
<p>“Since you said please.” He put his hand on her back and kissed her gently. So gently she almost regretted asking him, because suddenly she wasn't sure she could stand it. </p>
<p>He walked her back the few steps to the table in the center of the room. It hit her thighs and she put her hands out behind her, feeling the cold metal surface. It reminded her of an autopsy table. They stopped kissing as she sat down on the table, her feet dangling for a moment. She kicked off her shoes and then wrapped her legs around his hips. Now she had to look up to look at him. His eyes were dark. </p>
<p>She reached out and unfastened his jeans. He had on white briefs underneath and she smiled, a little, before pushing them down. His cock was dark pink and she wanted to put her mouth on it, but settled for her hand. She wrapped around him and moved her hand slowly. He groaned and moved against her touch. </p>
<p>He put his mouth on her neck, right where her pulse jumped wildly. His teeth scraped across her skin and she squeezed with her hand. He opened her shirt, biting at her breasts as she fought the need to cry out. He's not pretending, she thought. He was present, with her, here in this cell. </p>
<p>She lay down and he climbed up over her, putting his knees on the table. It shook a little with their combined weight, and he hesitated until the shimmy stopped. She knew the table had been used for animals much larger than the two of them, so she wasn't concerned. He put his hand into her pants. “You're wet.” </p>
<p>“Yeah,” she said. </p>
<p>He put his finger in his mouth, tasting her, and it made her want to writhe on the table underneath him. “You really fucking want this,” he said, like he's surprised. </p>
<p>“Yeah, Jack. I really fucking do.” </p>
<p>He pulled down her pants. The metal of the table was cold under her skin. He stuck his fingers into her and she closed her eyes, turning her head away as her hips moved of their own volition. She kept seeing him put that long, skilled, surgeon's finger between his lips and against his tongue. The same finger that was now making little motions inside against what she figured was her g-spot because it felt so amazing. </p>
<p>He groaned as he replaced his fingers with his cock, filling her with one quick motion. He thrust and she wrapped her fingers around the edges of the table, to hold herself in place as he drove into her, and because she needed something to cling to. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. He frowned at being caught and she didn't know what to feel. It made her stomach feel jittery. </p>
<p>He pulled out of her. She looked at his cock, thick and red and jutting out. He held out his hand and she took it, confused as she stood facing him. Then with his hands on her shoulders, he turned her away from him. She bit her lip as she understood. He didn't want to see her face. He bent her over, his hands hard enough on her hips that she knew she'd be bruised tomorrow. She braced herself against the table as he shoved into her with full force. She cried out, and his grunts matched hers with every hard thrust. </p>
<p>But it was good, the angle was good from behind and it seemed to make him bigger and thicker inside her. He took her breasts in his hands, squeezing and rubbing. She arched her back, and he dropped one hand between her thighs. She couldn't help the sounds that leaked out of her as his fingers on her clit led her into the white heat of her orgasm. </p>
<p>He cried out roughly, and put his hands back on her hips. His thrusts slowed as he came. Juliet put her head down on her arms on the table. It ached when he withdrew. She heard him sit down heavily on the floor. She wiped her eyes as she raised her head, then turned around to look at him. </p>
<p>“You get what you wanted?” he demanded. </p>
<p>Her lips were dry under her tongue and she found that she was shaking. </p>
<p>“You want to wait til I can get it up again?” He tugs at his soft cock and looks at her. </p>
<p>She doesn't know what to say. He was angry. She should have foreseen that. </p>
<p>“The funny thing is, I did want you, Juliet.” </p>
<p>All she heard was the word did. Like he had changed his mind. </p>
<p>“It didn't have to be like this. I'm not usually like this.” </p>
<p>“Angry?” she challenged. “I think you've been angry about a lot of things. For a long time.” </p>
<p>“You and your pretty blond hair, thinking that you look like her. But you're nothing like her.” </p>
<p>She knew he was talking about his ex-wife. She hadn't expected that either. She pulled up her pants and fastened them. </p>
<p>“You better go. It's going to be a long day tomorrow,” Jack said. “And I'm not going to hold you and stroke your hair like he did for her.” </p>
<p>There it is. The anger over Sawyer and Kate. She smiled, and the look Jack gave her was monstrous. He got to his feet and grabbed her arms and propelled her forward. For a moment, she thought he was going to throw her back down on the table and she wondered idly what would happen if she said no. But he pushed her toward the door instead, and gave her a final shove. She stumbled over her own feet. </p>
<p>Behind her, he started to sob. </p>
<p>She started to turn back. </p>
<p>“Get out!” </p>
<p>She stopped and closed her eyes. She listened to him cry, and she knew his heart was broken and what they'd just done hadn't helped with that at all. She couldn't remember anymore what she had been thinking when she came in here. So she let herself out through the heavy metal door and spun it closed behind her, shutting out the sound of him. </p>
<p>She leaned against it for a long time, until she could be sure she wasn't going to cry herself. Then she let herself outside, careful to avoid the path that ran between the cages.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. +1. Dharmaville, 1977</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>+1<br/>The Island, 1977</p>
<p>When Jack comes out of the bathroom, Juliet's sitting on the bed. He stops just past the doorway. “Why're you still here, Juliet? You want to yell at me some more?” </p>
<p>She shakes her head. Then she gets up and takes his face between her two hands and kisses him. He puts up a hand in surprise, and then starts to kiss her back. But he's very aware of the fact that he's wearing a t-shirt and a towel and his body's starting to react, so he takes a step back. “It's not going to work,” he says. </p>
<p>“What's not?” She's turned partway away and is looking down. </p>
<p>“You can't seduce or manipulate me into helping you with Ben.”</p>
<p>“That's not what this is,” she says, and her eyes are blazing. </p>
<p>“Really, Juliet?” he asks, a little sarcastically. “Then what is it? Don't try to tell me you're not in love with Sawyer.” </p>
<p>“And he still loves Kate,” she says softly, sinking back down onto the bed. </p>
<p>“Did he tell you that?” Jack prods. </p>
<p>“He didn't have to. It's there in the way he looks at her. In the way he looks, these past few days. When I sent him after her.” She sniffles, but to Jack's relief, she doesn't cry. </p>
<p>“I slept with Kate,” he says, and sits down beside her. </p>
<p>“Hurley said you were engaged.” She looks down at her hands, which bear no rings. </p>
<p>“Yeah, and I fucked that up,” Jack says. </p>
<p>She smiles. “You were always good at that.” </p>
<p>He rubs a hand over his damp hair. “I meant, I slept with Kate on the night before we got on the flight to Guam. The flight that brought us here.” </p>
<p>“Oh,” she says. “You still love her.” </p>
<p>“You love him?” He looks at her, and it's answer enough. “Talk to him, Juliet. Give him the chance to tell you who he does or doesn't love.” </p>
<p>She smiles, and he knows she's not going to do it. They've always been alike. She pats his arm and gets up. </p>
<p>“For what it's worth,” Jack says, and she turns to look back at him. “It's obvious he loves you.” </p>
<p>She nods, and he can see she doesn't believe it. Can't believe it, for whatever reason. This is something he understands. </p>
<p>“I'd do anything to get her back,” Jack says. “Don't throw away what you have here because of doubts.” </p>
<p>“There won't be anything of our life here left to throw away,” she says. “You made sure of that, when you came back. When you refused to help with Ben. And that's not her fault, Jack. It's yours.” </p>
<p>The accusation stings, and he sits on the bed for a long time after the echo of the front door slamming behind her has faded. </p>
<p>(end)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was surprised to find that out of all the Lost fic I wrote back in the day, I never wrote a Jack/Juliet story. So there it is. </p>
<p>As always, feedback is appreciated and adored.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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